Fumio Harem Dating Simulator
by Azecreth
Summary: Mayu's games had ended at last, whether the LRIGs involved knew it or not. Fumio returns to find herself in an...unusual situation, left for her by Futase. How will she handle it? will her psyche emerge intact? Will she finish that long awaited sequel? She has absolutely no idea. But it's definitely going to be a ride. Warning, absolute crack.
1. Beginnings

**A/N: About time we had some funny stories around here, I suppose. This was inspired by someone I know, and I make no promises as to where it ends up. Here's hoping I don't end up regretting it.**

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Awareness returned in a hazy fog of sleep. For Fumio, it was like she had just emerged from a deep slumber that had stretched on without end. It had the feeling of an entrancing dream, one which had only just now come to a conclusion as she returned to the world of the living.

Images ran before her eyes, flashing through her mind. Visions of brutal combat, crushed hopes, shattered and perverted dreams, immeasurable sadness, and a woman in white watching over it all as the scenes played out for her. This was what she had been cast into by her victory. No, not a dream. More like an unstoppable nightmare.

A low groan escaping chapped lips, she opened her eyes to face the day and what battles waited for her as her vision recovered from tired blurriness. "...!" From dull lethargy she snapped to wakefulness as she sat up in her bed, sweeping the room with wide eyes in stunned silence. This, this was her room! She shouldn't be here, had no reason or right to be here. So why wasn't she still an LRIG?

Surprisingly, no answer to that immediately presented itself. For a moment she sat in disbelief before quickly patting herself down, pinching her arm and doing everything she could to wake herself up. This had to be a dream. It couldn't be possible, right?

Yet it was, and as the minutes ticked by it rapidly became apparent that if it was a dream then it was a very strong one. With a growing resignation to that fact, and confusion as to what would have inspired Mayu to do this, Fumio decided to see what was currently going on in her room, and what had changed since she had left it behind.

She rose from bed in her pajamas, circling the room to give everything a cursory look. It had definitely been lived in, with new clothes (some of them fancier than she was used to), rearranged furniture, and the like. It seemed that Futase had wasted no effort in making this place homely for herself.

She stopped, running her right hand against the spines of the book collection she had on her desk, which she noticed had been altered by Futase as well. It was strange, all told. She seemed to be herself again, but it almost felt like she was a stranger in her own life. That was a topic to write about she supposed, if she ever worked up the ability to do so. It had been months since she was Fumio, so why now? And what had happened to Futase?

The sliding motion paused as her hand ran over the final book, lingering there for a moment before she removed the unfamiliar text so she could see what it was. Then a tremble ran through her hands, unable to turn a page or move at all. This was it, the book...Her book. The realization of her dream on paper and ink. Of course she had heard of the product by Fumio Futase, but to be able to feel it, touch it in flesh and blood, it at last brought the reality home. Whatever suffering there might have been, Futase had been good in her word.

At last she forced herself to move, placing the book back down on her desk. She would read it later, once her nerve had returned and she had adjusted to being herself again. It was in the process of that that she saw a folded up piece of paper with her name on it, resting in front of her computer with a pen nearby.

With an invitation like that she could hardly ignore it. So she didn't, picking up the note and flipping it open to find a message waiting for her, a letter from Futase. She gave a thanks for the farsightedness of her LRIG before she began to read, eager to see what the message was.

 _To: Fumio_

 _If you're reading this, it means that things are back to the way they should be. If so then I'm glad. I could grant your wish, but I'm not fit to write your story for you. You're self published now, and people are avidly waiting for a sequel, a conclusion to the initial tale that I wrote out for you. Now that you've been an LRIG like me, maybe you can do what I couldn't._

 _Coincidentally, I would suggest talking to Ruuko Kominato. You should have her email address, and I expect that she was at least partially responsible in bringing about your current situation, and the return to your body. Perhaps she can help you with writing the next part._

 _In the end I would like to say that I am glad to have been your LRIG. I did my utmost to fulfill your dream, and I hope that you can forgive my failures in that pursuit._

 _I hope that we can meet someday, so you can see my true appearance._

 _From, Futase_

 _P.S. I suppose I should add that while I was inhabiting your body your natural looks and and charm led to me entering into several relationships with other girls, most of whom are unaware of the others existence. Try to not break their hearts, thanks! ;)_

"...What!?"

To say that Fumio was surprised would be an understatement. She was astonished, confused, and flustered by what she had just read. The first part was nice and heartwarming, it was merely the postscript that earned her current ire. She had never imagined that Futase was such a player, and the fact that she had been using her body to do it sent a shiver down her spine. She already had the feeling of imminent doom, and she barely needed to think about it.

A huff escaped as she put the note down, frowning slightly as she mused over everything. She was going to have to talk to Ruuko, and see what Futase had written up already for this second book. Then, of course, she needed to deal with this whole mess that Futase had left for her. She was just thinking of that when the doorbell rang.

For a moment Fumio stood there, simply incapable of comprehending what had just happened. It took her a few seconds to come to terms with the fact that she was an author now, and that meant that she would get a lot more visitors than she did usually. So once she had recovered, she stepped over to the front door to see who it was.

Persistent knocks continued until she opened the door, revealing the person there. It was a younger girl with orange hair, dressed in a coat and clothes that seemed relatively high class. Fumio was about to ask what she wanted when she was taken off guard by the girl springing towards her, beaming like a lamp. "Futase!"

"Huh-oof!" Even though Fumio knew that this was part of what Futase had told her, experiencing it as she was suddenly embraced in a firm and overbearing hug was another matter entirely. She had no idea what to do, and deferred to a more mundane response. "Why are you here so early?"

The girl pouted, flashing her a disapproving frown as she glanced up from the tight hug. "It's not that early," she countered, a small bite in her tone. "Besides, Aki-lovely missed you, especially after Mirurun ditched me." It was easy to tell that she was bitter, but Fumio was more concerned about what it meant for her. She wasn't sure who Mirurun was, but leaving 'Aki-lovely' in this aggravated state might not be the best idea.

Well, by that account there was no point in keeping her in the hallway, and Fumio tried to pry herself out of the hug in as gentle a manner as she could. "I guess. Come on in." The girl grudgingly let go and Fumio stepped to the side, allowing her to enter the apartment while getting a better look at her current guest.

It took a bit as she closed the door behind the two of them, but she eventually identified just who this was in a burst of shock and realization. Wait, that was Akira Aoi, the model who was also pretty publicly into WIXOSS. That meant that Mirurun was presumably her LRIG. With that, another piece of the puzzle fell into place.

That just left the small issue of Akira Aoi thinking that she was her girlfriend. Or perhaps not so small as far as models, tabloids, and lawyers were concerned. She didn't even know how Futase had done it in the first place. This was not the sort of problem that she had imagined she would have when she set out to become an author.

But if there was a problem it was all on her end. Certainly Akira seemed eager, smiling away as she sat on Fumio's bed without a care in the world. In the meanwhile Fumio sat down at her desk, chair turned to face her guest. She supposed that she made quite the sight, having had neither the time to shower or to change into respectable clothes. She didn't know whether she should be worried by the fact that Akira didn't seem to care about that particular fact either.

A silence fell for several minutes, Akira's happy smile fading away into a frown of sadness, aimed directly at the redhead sitting across from her. In turn Fumio was relatively apathetic, with a neutral expression and one eye covered by her hair as was her usual style. "Futase," she said then, her gaze downcast. "Aren't you going to kiss me?"

Once again Fumio was thrown into shock, unable to speak for a few seconds as she tried to comprehend what Akira had just said to her. She wanted her to...kiss her? Just how far had Futase gone with these girls?! It was very unsettling for Fumio, whose romantic expertise beyond writing was relatively small.

But before she could outright refuse, Futase's letter came to mind. She owed it to her LRIG, just as Futase had helped her own dreams come true. The guilt stung, and she gave in to it. "Sorry," she replied with a light smile. "I'm tired. It was a long night." That would never stop being a convenient excuse.

"I got that," Akira replied, the barest hint of irritation slipping into her tone. Fumio got the impression that she would not be satisfied until she got what she wanted. In the face of that the author could provide no argument that wouldn't reveal the truth, so it seemed that she would have to do it before Akira grew too agitated.

With resignation taking over, Fumio rose and moved over to the bed. She sat down next to her guest, who turned to face her with expectation written across her features and her smile returned. Slowly Fumio leaned over, lips pursed and ready, only for Akira to take her off guard and grab her shoulders as their lips met, holding her in place as an abortive grunt of surprise escaped. If Akira noticed, she didn't give any sign of it.

No, no, there were other things on Fumio's mind as she was swept away by the kiss. She was taken aback by the sheer intensity that was forced upon her, the desperate need that was there as Akira pulled herself closer, her eyes closed, legs brushing against each other, and making no move to pull away.

Fumio couldn't help but admit that there was some part of her that enjoyed it, her cheeks heating even as her lips tingled at the passionate contact. She might not have the experience, but she could practically feel the spark glimmering from out of sight. Maybe it was Futase's fault, but Fumio found herself unable to stop.

The moment seemed to stretch on, no closer to ending than it had been when they started. It was only after the sudden buzzing of a phone intruded that Akira broke off, a whimper escaping as she went for her pocket to produce her cell phone. Fumio panted as she got her breath back while watching Akira, whose pleased air vanished like ice on a hot day as she glared at her phone.

"They told me this was my day off," she snarled to herself, an alarming show of rage from the previously happy girl. "Those bastards!" She seemed about ready to chuck her phone at the wall, so intent and powerful was her anger. Fumio didn't know what the schedules of models were like, but she had the feeling this sort of thing didn't happen all that often.

Nonetheless she did intervene to ensure no damage to her bedroom. That was the sort of problem she didn't need and could actually handle, and she was quick to take Akira's hand in her own. "It's alright," she said in a placating tone. "I'll still be here, so go do whatever it is they need you to do." Besides that, she wouldn't mind the chance to recover from what was happening, and to prepare for the next time.

"Fine," Akira grumbled as she squeezed Fumio's hand. "I guess I should. I don't want those cheapskates taking my job again. Then I wouldn't be able to be with you anymore." Fumio didn't exactly mind that if it ended up happening, but it was obvious that Akira had a problem with even just the possibility.

That said, she rose back to her feet, grumbling under her breath while Fumio rose at the same time. The author followed her guest over to the front door, standing there as the model stepped back into the hallway. "Don't go anywhere," Akira commanded as she turned to face her supposed friend. "Aki-lovely will be back as soon as she can."

"I will." Fumio continued with a nod, putting on enthusiasm that she didn't quite feel. There was something very wrong with this girl, and she wasn't sure that she wanted any part of it.

That signaled Akira to run off, waving over her shoulder as she left. Fumio watched her round the corner before stepping back inside, letting a sigh escape at the same time. "Futase, what did you get me into," she wondered aloud as she returned to her bedroom, gaze sweeping the place once more.

What to do now then? She had some time before Akira returned, leaving her to decide what she should entertain herself with in the interim. This was going to provide all sorts of trouble for her, that much was apparent now. And Akira might have just been the first. Who knew what kind of person might show up at her door next?

She returned to Futase's letter, hoping that it might distract from her other issues. Reading it one more time, a name sprung out at her in the process, one that she had read before but now with a highlighted importance. "Ruuko, huh?" That might be something worth pursuing. Recalling what had bee said, she sat down in front of her computer. Booting it up, she leaned back in her chair as she looked over the books nearby.

It didn't take much time to access her emails and find the one from Ruuko, asking to meet with her and revealing that she was also involved in the Selector battles. Given what the letter had said, it wasn't really a surprise at this point.

Fumio stopped herself, humming as she considered the email. She could send a message asking for a meeting, but if Ruuko was involved in how she had come to be herself again then there would be no way of hiding the deception, especially if they had met before. Should she do this now, or wait until she was more prepared?

Then what Futase had written her poked back up even more. It hadn't just been one girl, but multiple. Who knew how long she had before the next one showed up? No, better to get this out of the way quick, so she could get a handle on things before they got even more out of control.

Resigning herself to the inevitable, it didn't take long for Fumio to type out an email to Ruuko. The only difficulty was figuring out the best way to phrase it to not be too weird. It had been a while since she had had to write anything after all, even something as simple as an email to another person.

Soon enough though she managed to get it sent off, and with that done she leaned back in her chair, filled with profound satisfaction. That had been done, now it was time to go on to the next thing. She could confidently say that she was beginning to recover from her time as an LRIG, slowly but surely. If she didn't have all these issues from Futase, things might have gone even quicker.

 _Futase..._ Thinking of her LRIG brought a sad frown to Fumio's face as she tapped the desk. Where was she now? What sort of life was she living? It occurred to her that in spite of their time together, she didn't know all that much about her friend, as stuck as she had been with her own problems.

Guilt surged at the thought, her head dipping slightly as she recognized it. There was nothing she could do about it now, but that didn't make her feel any better.

As her vision rose once more, she caught sight of her book. She reached over and grabbed it, sighing as she examined the cover. The art wasn't the best, but there was no denying that this was her book, the book that she had given her life for, and the book that Futase had made with her wishes.

At last she resigned herself to what was to come, flipping open to the first page as she began to read. Time to see what her dream had made.


	2. Rūko 1

With Akira Aoi having left her in peace for the foreseeable future, Fumio was provided with the opportunity to get ready for the day. That she used soon enough, if only because she wasn't the type to waste the entire day in stasis and moping about how things were.

First off she went to take a shower in her modest bathroom, a sigh of delight escaping as she felt the hot water from the faucet with her hand, undressed and ready to start. The sensation felt almost foreign to her, and her brow furrowed for a moment as she took it in. How long had it been since she had taken a shower? Months? God, she couldn't remember.

For a moment she couldn't do it, locked still as if her body would shatter and she would be back in her card when she truly touched the water. Even if it was not born of a rational thought, there was a lingering terror in her gut nonetheless. It was too good to believe, all of it. It had to prove to be a dream at some point.

But at last the pressure was too much, and after a deep breath she slipped into the tub, wincing as the hot water impacted against her skin in a drumming tempo. For a moment the sensation overwhelmed her, body locking up as droplets slammed into her and ran down her nude form in endless streams.

Her mind eventually ceded to the obvious, and her head tilted back to let the rain from the shower head hit her face in an unending torrent. It buffeted her, and she let it do so as it hid the tears rolling from her eyes, the soft gasps of released emotion, of sadness, loss, and pure joy. For now, she merely let the experience sweep her away, without any resistance.

Oh, she expected that Futase had been taking showers fairly regularly like any rational person. But her prolonged inability due to her status as an LRIG meant that she was captivated by it, and she could feel the months of grime and dirt and sweat being washed away even if it didn't actually exist.

There she stood, minutes slipping by as she simply basked in the sensations, cheeks flushed red from the heat even as steam began to fill her bathroom, the shower hiding any trace of her mourning an rejoicing. She didn't want to stop, didn't want it to end even if she knew that it had to eventually.

She was spurred into motion soon enough as she washed herself off with soap and cleaned her hair with shampoo and conditioner. After so long being deprived she spent her time with it, if only to ensure that she got it all and did it right in the first place, to use and savor it all while she had the opportunity.

So she scrubbed, and fumbled, and twisted with a sponge and hair care products, until she was sure that she was clean. Still it was weird to feel again, and she rubbed her arms as she attempted to cope with the sensations that she was experiencing. Even once she had shut off the water she lingered there, trying to hold on to it.

Beads splashed to the ground as she shivered in the warm embrace of lingering hot water, stepping out of the tub at the same time. Memories swept through her mind, memories of long nights, early mornings, this same scene playing out again and again.

A few steps took her to the sink before she reached up to wipe the steam off of the mirror there so she could see her red hair, her slick skin, dull eyes, and heated cheeks. As she watched it a smile broke out, blossoming across her features. Yes, she was back.

It was a much easier task to dry off with a pastel colored towel, and she spent less time lingering over it. Soon enough she was ready for the day, with her usual style of hairdo and clad in her high school uniform. She wasn't going to school, but she felt comfortable wearing it. Judging by her closet Futase felt the same.

After that she moved on to have breakfast. A bagel, sausage, some orange juice, a banana. Simple affair all told but it was filling, especially for someone who hadn't eaten in months. Just another thing she had to do if she was to return to her life.

At first there was almost a sense of nausea, like she simply couldn't eat at all and that whatever she did eat would be immediately thrown up. Yet after a few bites it had faded away to an almost staggering hunger. Fumio knew that it was all in her head, but that did not help her stop it.

So she finished one serving and then another to try and sate her appetite. Fumio took the time to savor the taste, the heat, the texture, the myriad of nuanced impulses that exploded over her taste buds. A groan escaped between bites as she rediscovered those senses that she had not used in some time.

It was incredibly difficult, again, but eventually she managed to stop what she was doing when the time came. Futase had to have been eating while herself as a matter of course and survival, and Fumio didn't want to make herself sick. Not when she had a visitor coming soon.

Having deposited the dirty dishes in the sink to be washed later, Fumio then returned to her bedroom. Once there she sat down at her desk and went back to reading her book. Each page was turned with care, each word read with a serious scrutiny of interpretation. She had to understand it, to build on it, and that she would do with all her effort.

A slight frown developed as she went on, finding some of the events portrayed similar to her memories and past experiences. She could see things that had taken place in her own life within, even if only serving as a basis for some of the plot and not the entire thing. As for the stuff that wasn't, perhaps it was from Futase's life instead?

That wasn't entirely a surprise though. As a writer she knew the usefulness that drawing on your own experiences could be for crafting a story. 'Write what you know', that was the saying, and she hardly expected Futase to keep from doing that. Especially when it seemed like it had worked and gotten her published.

So Fumio read on with an intractable certainty, seeing just what Futase had made for her to work with. She couldn't write a sequel without doing so, and she also just wanted to know what her LRIG had written. As the one who had granted her wish and gotten her published, she had an obligation to do so.

She was in the middle of a chapter when she heard a knock on the door, drawing her attention away from the book in her hands. Well, it wasn't hard to determine who that was of the small amount of possibilities, she just hoped that it wasn't Akira again. She wasn't ready for that just yet, even if she was now actually dressed and fed.

Rising from her seat, Fumio left a book on her desk before walking over to the front door to see who who was there. A look through the peephole revealed that it was not Akira, and she stepped back to unlock and open the door. The girl there had brown hair with an ahoge in a scrunchie, a blue jacket with a white scarf, and a blue skirt.

"Hello," Fumio said as she looked the girl over. "Are you Rūko Kominato?"

The slightly nervous Rūko lit up, grinning warmly as she stepped forward. "Hello Fumio. It's nice to meet you at last." So she did know the ultimate truth of who was in front of her. It was not all that odd, and Fumio made no issue of it.

"Come in," Fumio said then, stepping aside to allow her guest to enter her apartment. That Rūko did, and the two of them moved back to her bedroom so they could converse. Better to be comfortable for this chat when they were starting.

Fumio once more returned to her desk and turned to watch Rūko as the other girl stood nearby. "So, why don't you tell me a bit about yourself? I don't know whatever you might have told Futase after all, and I'd like to get to know you before we get to the difficult stuff."

"Sure," Rūko agreed without complaint as she moved to sit down on Fumio's bed. "Well, I'm fourteen years old, I live with my grandma and my brother, I'm in middle school, and I like playing WIXOSS and spending time with my friends."

That was stored away in memory as Fumio took it in. This girl seemed fairly normal then, even if Rūko was hardly the most descriptive by any measurement. "I see. Well, I heard you were involved in me coming back to this body. Is that true?"

Rūko nodded, hands resting in her lap. "That's right," she confirmed. "It's a bit of a long story though."

Fumio shrugged, glancing at the clock to determine how long she reasonably had. "I have the time. Though I suppose I should ask whether you read Futase's book first."

Rūko looked to the book that sat on the desk with a bookmark in place before giving her a firm nod. "I did. It was pretty good."

Fumio let a soft smile escape as she heard that, relieved to hear someone who knew Futase sharing the same opinion as her. "I'm glad to hear that. It's nice to know that she succeeded when I couldn't do it myself." Once more her faith in her LRIG was confirmed, much to her gratitude.

After a moment Rūko met her gaze, a mingle of emotions present there. "Don't feel bad about it," she said with a surprising amount of energy. "You tried so hard, no one could blame you for wanting to wish for success."

A sigh escaped as Fumio bowed her head slightly, not willing to meet that look. "Yeah. Even if I didn't know the cost, I guess it worked out in the end. I did get published after all, so I'll have to thank Futase for that when I see her."

Rūko went along with it, yet she still didn't seem to be completely happy with how things were. Sure, it hadn't been the easiest way to get it, but ultimately she had gotten her wish. It had all worked out in the end as far as Fumio knew, besides that one thing.

"I'm sorry." The statement took Fumio off guard, and she looked to Rūko in confusion. Fortunately she didn't have to ask as Rūko provided an explanation for her. "Futase wasn't...all that happy when I met her."

Fumio's hand clenched on her desk, mind set astir as Rūko suddenly threw that in. In spite of succeeding, she wasn't happy? Why? Futase hadn't seemed like that sort of person when she was her LRIG, besides that bit of self deprecation in the note that had been left behind. "So you were a Selector then?"

"I was," Rūko admitted, saying what Fumio had expected. They probably wouldn't have met if she weren't. But it was nonetheless good to have the confirmation. "When I met her, she was really sad because she couldn't write a sequel to her first book. She felt like she was letting you down."

Really? She felt that way? Again, not entirely a surprise given the note and what had been written there, yet to hear it confirmed was a whole other matter entirely. The guilt that had lingered in her mind this entire time swelled, even as she continued to try and ignore it. "She was?"

A dull mood seemed to have settled across the entire room as Rūko looked at her hands, thinking things over before returning to Fumio. "She was competing in the Selector battles to try and see Mayu again, so she could have some inspiration for the next book."

The redhead's frown deepened, a grunt escaping as she looked at the nearby book with frustration and worry. It hurt, to know that Futase had been so desperate she would willingly fight in the Selector battles again. "Why would you do that to yourself," she growled, trying to work it out in her head and coming up short in the process.

Once again though Rūko was there to provide an answer for her. Luckily, since otherwise she might never have gotten it. "She had to," the younger girl replied in a softer tone. "If an LRIG can't grant their Selector's wish then they vanish forever. She didn't want to disappear. And I truly think that she cared about you and your wish. That's why she did it."

"Mayu was a twisted girl," Fumio mused aloud. She wasn't happy about it, but at least she understood now. In that situation she supposed that she would do the same thing. "Thanks for letting me know."

If anything though, the mention of the girl in the white room didn't make Rūko any happier at the moment. "Mayu wasn't that bad of a person," she explained defensively. "She just never had the chance to live. I hope I get to see her again soon."

Now that was interesting. Fumio's writing instincts were piqued, drawn in by the possibility of a good story. Not that she could approve of what had been done to her, but the potential for a tale such as this was all too alluring. She was going to need to push Rūko for details later. "I see. Well, that does explain what Futase told me."

The mood began to lighten up somewhat at that point, Rūko perking up at the mention of Futase. "The two of you were able to talk?" she asked, the glimmer of hope in her eye. One had to wonder what that was about.

"Not really," Fumio replied, shaking her head as she reached across her desk and showed Rūko the note that was there. "Futase managed to leave me a letter before she returned to her own body. That's how I knew to get in touch with you."

"Oh." Her guest deflated a bit at the news, but nonetheless some good humor seemed to remain. "That's good. Did she tell you anything else in her note?"

Fumio paused, mind racing as she tried to decide how much she should actually tell Rūko. This couldn't be one of the girls that Futase had told her about, right? She would have mentioned it by now, like Akira had. Yet she couldn't just leave the lingering issue unaddressed. She needed the advice, the reassurance, to figure out how to handle it. She certainly couldn't do it herself.

Eventually though she did answer the question. "Well, there was some stuff about my book," she admitted calmly. "And she told me some of the more personal stuff that she got up to." The bait had been set, and now to see whether the brunette rose to it.

From the way Rūko began to slightly fidget in place, she had the feeling that she had hit the nail on the head there, which was a bit worrying if Fumio were to be honest. Just how many girls were involved in this? "She did? Was...Was any of it abut me?"

Fumio's gaze narrowed then, focusing and applying more pressure to get a straight answer from Rūko. She would not simply leave this be, not if she could help it. "What do you think?"

The fidgeting only seemed to intensify as Rūko looked away, hands clenched in her lap before she seemed to reach some resolution. "I think me and Futase were friends. I'd like to be friends with you too, whatever form that might take. Any form you want it to take."

Well then, that seemed to be as much confirmation as anything, and to a bit of intimidation in the process. Man, Rūko seemed really serious about this. Now Fumio was the one to be thrown off and nervous, even if it was just because of the situation she was in and what was being implied. She was faced with a choice, to go along with it or not.

She didn't want to hurt the girls that Futase had dragged into this, even if this made her uncomfortable. Yet to hear how Futase had suffered as her, it only made her feel more guilty about it all. For how irrational it was, she felt like she had an obligation because of what she had done to Futase even if she had no real investment in this.

Huh, was this how Futase had felt? She guessed that it wouldn't be too surprising.

An internal sigh escaped as she wracked her mind, trying to come up with an idea, a solution of some kind, and decide what to do. She couldn't just let this sit and fester in front of her. She had to handle it.

Then at last she did. Essentially, at least until she could ease into something better, explain the situation, and unravel this whole mess, she would go along with it. "Alright," she said at last, nodding. "I'd like to be friends as well."

Any nervousness that Rūko was expressing seemed to vanish at that moment as she eagerly showed her approval as well. "Right. Once I find Tama, Yuki, and Mayu I'll make sure to introduce them to you too."

"I look forward to it," Fumio told her in turn. Looking beyond whomever Tama and Yuki were, the chance to talk with Mayu herself was something that no sane person who'd been in the Selector matches would refuse. It would probably help her write the sequel as well.

With that said Fumio chose to move on to other business. Turning away from Rūko, she grabbed a pen and a loose sheet of paper. It was only when her search was successful that she turned her attention back to her guest. "Now then, why don't you tell me your story?"

"Alright," Rūko agreed, and after a moment to make sure her host was ready, she began. Fumio listened carefully as she jotted down notes, writing in shorthand and stopping Rūko at points to ask further questions. It was the best way to ensure that she had full information going forward.

Time passed by as Rūko recounted her tale for Fumio to record it, and as far as the author was concerned it was time well spent. For now she had made up her mind on many things, and her life would never be the same.


	3. Akira 1

**A/N: Oh hey, there's actually mature content in this chapter. Who'd have seen that coming?**

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In the aftermath of Rūko's visit, Fumio was left to think, to plan, to try and work out what was going to happen next. With everything that had occurred today she was going to desperately need it. For now as well as the future.

Even now after hearing it described, she still had trouble believing it. Not just the story that Rūko had told her about the end of the Selector system (which would provide her with plenty of writing material even if it didn't fit the specifics that Futase had written already), but what she had learned about Futase as well. It was nothing like the personality that she had witnessed when Futase was her LRIG, and it made Fumio uncomfortable just to think about it. That was her body doing those things!

Still there was a niggling thought in her mind, and she couldn't help but reflect on the good things that Futase had done for her while controlling her body. It might not balance out what she had done otherwise, but it was still helpful nonetheless. At last, she was a published author!

Not only that, but now she was in this apartment. The arguing between her parents had been tough to deal with, and it was what had driven her into the Selector matches with a vengeance. Now she was away from that atmosphere, free to do as she wished, to live as she wished. Was it for the best? Perhaps not, but for the moment it seemed to be working out.

Those were the positives, some relief to the torment that Fumio had gone through. Deep inside herself she could only feel regret what she had done, forced to rely upon Futase to do what she couldn't or hadn't wanted to do. She didn't know if she'd ever be able to forgive herself for that.

What could she do to make up for it, to apologize in some manner besides handling the mess that Futase had left for her to deal with? Obviously she needed to get back to writing and finish this series, but what could she do beyond that? Honestly, she didn't know.

The thought made her look back towards the bookshelves, settling on the novel that Futase had written. She had been surprised to see the reception the novel had gotten, the letters from fans, the donations, the book reviews. It was a bit daunting, faced with what Futase had built and having to keep it going, to make it better than it was before.

Yet even as she thought about it she felt determination swelling, her posture straightening up as she adjusted her glasses. No, she could do this. It was her failure that had led to Futase being stuck, and she would not doubt her abilities again. Besides, this was a much different situation so she was unlikely to have the same problems again.

"I suppose I just need to do it," she muttered to herself, nodding at the same time. This story would not write itself, and she needed to get back into her good habits after spending so long unable to write a word. She wouldn't be able to write her novel otherwise.

That said Fumio put her statement into concrete actions, returning to her laptop which she had previously left in sleep mode. It was booted up once again and a word document opened for her to use. Not that she got to typing right away though, instead placing the notes she had taken from Rūko next to her laptop for easy access. She was going to need them.

She didn't begin writing right away though. That would just be a bad idea. Instead she began to organize her thoughts, perusing the notes for relevant points and laying them out, creating a chart for a potential plot to her story. Locations, characters, everything she needed.

That was part of being a good writer, at least in her mind. A plan was needed to keep her on track, to focus her efforts and drive the plot. Even the plot itself had to be changed since the original work that Futase had written didn't match what Rūko had told her. She'd need to alter her notes before she could make an actual story for the series.

It was familiar, comforting in a way. The clicking of the keyboard, the slight hum of the computer, her own thoughts. She had missed this sort of thing, and warmth swelled up inside of her as she got back to it again. This was what she was meant to be doing, what she liked to do, and it seemed she hadn't lost her touch.

Time seemed to fly by as she lost track of it and soon enough she found herself looking at several pages worth of notes and plans. There was more than enough to work with laid out in front of her, she just needed to do it and then see how it all worked out in the meanwhile.

Fumio was pulled out of her reverie by a knocking on the door, causing her to jump in her seat as she looked around in surprise. It took a moment for her to calm down but she did so quickly. A save of her word file later, and she rose to her feet to see who it was at her door. It seemed she wasn't done having visitors for the day.

"Who is it," she called, looking through the peephole to try and see for herself. The sooner it was resolved, the quicker she could get return to her writing.

On the other side of the door, she found a familiar face. "Hi hi, Aki-lovely is back just like I said I'd be," the orange haired girl called out with a smile and a wave, her bad mood apparently having dissipated once she got off work.

Not that that really made Fumio feel that much better, since she hadn't been expecting the girl to return today at all. But now that she was here the author couldn't really leave her standing outside and risk the deception falling apart. With an internal sigh she unlocked the door and opened it, beckoning for Akira to enter her apartment. "Come on in."

That Akira did, skipping inside as if she owned the place. "I hope you didn't get too bored without me," she called, looking back to flash a smile at Fumio. To which Fumio could firmly say she had not been.

That much the author voiced, shaking her head. "No, I'm just more surprised that you're here in the first place. It's been a while since you left here before." Enough for Rūko's visit, if nothing else. It was noteworthy, though presumably her work was the main reason for it.

Akira turned once again, flashing her a pout in the same instant. "I said I'd be back," she pointed out. "I couldn't just leave Fumio Futase feeling sad, especially when we had to leave like that." Not that Fumio minded the separation in the slightest, since it had given her time she desperately needed. Besides, she could only imagine what Akira had in mind, and it wasn't all that pleasant.

Stepping into her bedroom, Fumio gave a tiny shrug as she eyed her guest. "I figured you'd be tired out," she noted as Akira made herself comfortable on Fumio's bed. "Modeling doesn't seem like an easy job."

Though Akira smiled, it wasn't hard to miss the look of disgust that warred with her jovial mood. "You would not believe some of the people I have to work with," she said in a shaking voice of mock happiness. It left Fumio to wonder just who she worked with and why she felt this way, though Rūko had given her an idea. Truly, Akira made for an interesting character in this story.

Then like a pendulum in motion, Akira swung back the other way to return to vivid happiness. At least it didn't take Fumio completely off guard by this point. "But it's fine," the girl reassured her. "As long as I have you people like them don't matter."

"I'm glad you think so," Fumio replied, heeding unspoken directions to sit down next to the girl. It affirmed that trying to end their relationship out of the blue would end badly, at least for her. She'd have to figure out some way to make an easy let down first, though she had the feeling that it wouldn't prove so simple to do it.

Akira nodded, shifting forward as she turned to look at Fumio, herself smiling and looking eager for something. "I guess we should get back to it," the model announced at last, eyelashes fluttering at the same time. She leaned forward once again, seeking inexperienced lips in a mistaken impression of who Fumio was.

Yet it was something the author had prepared herself for since finding out, though that didn't mean she was looking forward to it by any stretch of imagination. The redhead braced herself and shifted forwards, letting her lips meet Akira's once again. After a moment the other girl practically melted, a hum escaping as her contact softened and invited Fumio forward, her eyes closing. It reinforced how needy she was, the sort of desire that she was holding on to.

At the same time Fumio focused on the moment itself, trying to get used to it, to accept it as she needed to. She would admit that she was curious and moved tentatively as the urge struck, testing actions and responses. Even after their previous encounter and what Futase had done her experience was lacking. Hopefully this would help rectify that.

Yet after a few seconds or so Akira broke off the kiss, leaving a confused redhead behind as the other girl pouted. "What's wrong," she asked, a tremor of worry manifesting itself. "You aren't growing tired with Aki-lovely are you? I-I can't lose you. Please, what am I doing wrong?" There was a growing desperation on her part as her fears took over.

Once again Fumio was taken off guard and left scrambling to come up with a response to that plea. What could she say? The truth was that she didn't know, certainly not as much as Futase did. It was only a reminder of what she did know that kept her from admitting the truth. She just had to fake it until she had figured it out. "Don't worry," she said at last, reaching over to pat Akira on the shoulder. "I'm still interested in you. I just thought we'd try something a bit different this time."

She felt a bit guilty, but the glimmer in Akira's eyes as her depression fled made her feel better about the lie. "Really? You mean that?" Akira leaned forward, closing the distance and seeking an affirmation as Fumio nodded. "Thank goodness. Aki-lovely is so glad to hear that."

Even as Fumio smiled back, she couldn't help the sinking sensation that she felt. This girl needed psychiatric help or something, there was no other way to look at it. Yet she had no choice but to go on the ride and hold on for dear life. "I guess we should give it another shot, huh," she commented at last. She'd have to bite the bullet eventually.

Akira nodded, as eager to get to it as Fumio pretended to be. Quickly she leaned forward on all fours without any reservations, and Fumio met her halfway. Their lips mashed with a visible enthusiasm, the author putting aside observation to indulge in the actions of raw instinct. Trying to learn didn't appear to make Akira happy, so if she was to be sated then the redhead would just have to act in a different manner.

Time took on that peculiar quality as before, yet Fumio found herself distracted from such idle comments. Her heart thudded in a rising drumming as her lips heated to a cherry red, a hum escaping unbidden and unsought. Before she had even realized it her hands rose to take hold of Akira's upper arms. What had previously been a chaste kiss began to break down, perhaps to the surprise of no one.

Of course she'd blame Akira for this. The forcefulness of the girl, her lips slowly parting, and the heated pants for breath that filled the air. It certainly couldn't be herself.

Soon the author found herself being pushed back by the force of gravity, Akira's need driving her forwards in continued pursuit even as Fumio found herself unable to keep up. She was practically on the edge of the bed and her partner as oblivious to it as when they had started. Eventually she was forced to act and threw her weight to the side, sending them toppling down next to each other on the mattress.

"Mmph!" Whether it was a cry or a muffled groan from the model was hard to tell past heated cheeks and other distracting images. She was focused more on the sudden taste that had introduced itself, bursting across her senses. It was a bit sour, but it also had the taste of berries. It was unexpected but not entirely unknown, and she was left with the desire to have more, even if just a little bit.

There was no more backing away. Instead she welcomed the embrace and pushed where Akira did, drawing on instinctual knowledge that must have been from Futase. There were no complaints either and instead the idol seemed to enjoy it that much more when she was assertive. She'd have to keep that in mind.

Lips parted as her tongue slipped forwards, and Akira provided no resistance as she began to explore. Skin quivered with a hum of want as Fumio was submerged in that exotic taste and the occasional electric shock as she found the model fighting back in an obviously playful manner, tongues brushing against each other and kindling that already present heat.

Fumio did it until she felt like she would explode and then broke it off. Both of them were left gasping for breath, the glimmer of a strand of saliva between them existing momentarily before it vanished. Reflecting, Fumio was starting to understand why Futase had tried to collect such a harem for herself.

By the time she had recovered though she found Akira already in the process of unbuttoning her shirt. Fumio froze as she watched button after button slip out of place, fabric falling to reveal bare skin even as the orange haired girl cast her a baleful look. "Please," she panted, face stricken with pleading eyes. "I need you."

This did nothing to spur Fumio to motion, as she was forced to comprehend what was going on at the moment. Kissing had one thing, but what had just been implied was totally another. Yet...she had known it would go this far, or at the very least it had been implied. Should she really be so shocked that someone as desperate as Akira wanted this?

No, not really. From a more logical standpoint it made sense, and she could consider it the way she did any of her own characters. Akira was someone who needed that affirmation of her own value even if it had to be in a physical manner. Combine it with her doubts over her own self image, and it made for a dangerous combination. That was why she was so desperate, so she could feel like she was valued.

By the time she had finished following that train of thought, Akira was shrugged her shirt over her shoulders, leaving only an admittedly stylish light blue colored bra behind. It was distracting, Fumio left to deal with it as she had everything else thus far. What else could she do?

Then the thought popped into existence in her head, unbidden and yet strangely alluring in its entirety. That was...perhaps she wasn't opposed to this after all. Aside from her mentality she had enjoyed herself with Akira so far. If it was what Akira wanted and she was enjoying herself, did she really have a reason to refuse even if it was mortifying to think that way?

"Alright, I will," she said while undoing the top button of her uniform, though Akira was a bit further ahead of her. Her permission had an effect on the idol, a look of satisfaction appearing as she unclipped her bra and let it fall away. A quick look revealed that her assets were a bit on the smaller side, with nipples pointed and eager for attention.

She leaned forward then, undressing put aside to cup revealed orbs, heeding the cry for notice that was issued without being spoken. "Hope you don't mind," she mumbled, grasping at tender skin with a firmer grip than she had intended to use. There was a softness to it, but it was obvious that her partner took care of herself.

A gasp escaped as Akira's head tilted, back arching to make it that much easier for Fumio to do what she wanted. "M-More," she panted through her shivers. Not that Fumio had expected her to object, beyond perhaps going too fast and ruining some of the fun they might have had. "Please, more."

Her request was all Fumio needed, and she was further pushed to take charge of the situation. Propelled into motion the bed shook as the orange haired girl was pushed down to the bed with little warning. The redhead ended up on top, her hairstyle falling to shambles when she was over her partner like this.

Faced by it, the author found her situation all the more alluring. Not that the look the model wore helped, shifting in place under the touch of the girl. "More what," Fumio asked then, doing her best to hold on to some sort of facade of indifference and control, whether it worked or not. Not that there was anyone around to challenge her. It was a strange way for her to act, yet she couldn't help but enjoy the sensation it sent through her.

Strange though it might have been, it appeared that it was more the norm when Futase was concerned. Palms rested on the bedsheets as Akira met her gaze, lips quivering with crumbling self control. "You like this sort of thing, huh?" Then again it made sense, especially after her injury. Akira wanted, was almost desperate for others to affirm her importance, her self worth. It had been worked out some time ago, at least intellectually.

"Please," Akira begged, taking her back with the raw determination in that moment. She was once again unable to jump the gap between actual experience and logic, leaving her at a loss. Though the model wasn't really giving her an option as she laid there and waited for direction from a guiding hand.

An arm left to support herself in hr current position, Fumio resumed her exploration. Accidental roughness was no longer on accident as she began to massage inviting breasts. Back and forth, trails of red left behind as the model tossed and panted beneath her to the beat of her heart. Pleading buds finally got some attention, tweaked and pinched to audible lilts.

After a few moments Fumio moved on, her hand drifting downwards to brush against Akira's bare stomach. Soft hands clasped at the sheets as the model stifled laughter, though a whimper slipped out past that. Her stomach tensed against the redhead's touch and Fumio moved on to the skirt below that. The immediacy of it cut on her nerves, but she forced herself forwards.

An eyebrow rose as fingers dipped beneath the skirt to touch nothing but bare skin now slick with arousal. It was only surpassed by a tentative contact against the heated lips of her waiting sex. Somehow this didn't come as a shock as her fingertips traced along eager curves and and teased the girl beneath her. "Huh, someone enjoys being daring, huh?"

Akira shot her a wink with every touch and prod that sent sparks into her vision and drove out moans of delight in turn. "Y-Yeah," she ceded without even a hint of argument, blushing that much harder. "I'm doing what you told me to do, you know? If you want me to be dirty, then I'll be dirty for you. Whatever you want."

That was met with an internal sigh as Fumio found herself chastising Futase once again. It was yet another example of the sort of shenanigans that her LRIG had gotten up to while in her body. Yet with this sort of thing she couldn't just meekly accept it. "Do you like it?"

The question might have caught Akira, but she didn't hesitate in providing an answer. "At first...I thought it was weird, and embarrassing. But now it's kinda nice, especially since I need to be perfect for my job." It was hard for Fumio to tell whether she was saying that just to put her mind at ease, but she accepted it for now.

She had to admit though, it made things a lot easier. As one hand continued to massage Akira's bust the other took advantage of glimmering folds. Soon her digits were infused with a dull heat as they worked in small circles, kindling the fire as sensitive skin was worked with an inexperienced hand.

In spite of that she was rewarded with a growing stream of a lewd nature, showing that experience didn't really matter. The model beneath her only grew more vocal in her pleasure, panting and cries of delight rising to fill the bedroom of her apartment. To be honest it was starting to turn Fumio on more as well, though she pointedly avoided looking to see if it was sweat or something else.

"F-Futase," Akira pleaded, eyes wide as she looked up at the author. "S-Stop teasing me. I need it so much, I think I'm going to go crazy."

While in hindsight she should have realized that. Fumio handled the request before her partner decided to do something drastic on her own. Slow motions terminated as she placed two digits at the waiting entrance, only adjusting slightly as Akira's hips bucked as she tried to get what she wanted that much faster. She had survived this long, she could last a few more minutes.

With the same slowness that Akira had assumed was teasing before, Fumio at last got on with it. Her index and middle fingers sank into eager pink, now embraced by a wet heat as they sank deeper. There was little resistance with how aroused the idol was, who in turn shivered and twisted under her relief.

Though initially lackluster, Fumio soon picked up speed as she pleasured the other girl. With her confidence growing she was able to do a lot more, fingers sliding in from different angles, twisting and even spreading wide as she sated the poor girl. In turn she got quite the reward, hair strewn about the mattress in an erotic sight as Akira praised her. It was flattering, even with the mistake identity.

"Hm, you're pretty cute," Fumio noted to herself, since expecting Akira to hear that was probably a bit much. After all the girl was busy speaking, head tossing as her body moved ever closer to the edge. A hand rose to stroke her cheek, about where she imagined the scar was even as her prodding fingers sank deeper, up to her knuckles at certain points. She had the feeling that it wouldn't be long now.

Yet there was one last complication to the plan, a whimper filling the air as Akira met her gaze once again. "I don't think I can hold back much longer," she said with a wavering voice. "Can I cum?"

An unusual question from Fumio's perspective, but she supposed that she had Futase to thank for it. So she had no problem with giving Akira what she wanted again. "Go ahead," she urged, and drew back to pinch her engorged clit, to push her over the edge.

It was the proverbial straw, and a piercing cry rang out as Akira's back arched, her breathing hitching as she finished. A rush of liquid washed over her fingers as the bedsheets beneath were stained, though nothing that couldn't be handle. At last Akira collapsed to the sheets, gasping for breath even as she was wreathed in a glow of satisfaction.

"Thank you," she said with a happy sigh before suddenly perking up, as if a realization had occurred in that moment. "Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot that I have to take care of you first."

Shakily she began to try and sit up so she could do just that, only for Fumio to place a hand on her chest, keeping her down as she shook her head. "It's alright. You've had a long day, so just relax," she reassured the idol. She wasn't sure if she'd be able to handle being on the receiving end right now.

"Alright." What worry had returned before seeped away as Akira collapsed back to the sheets. "I think I'm going to have around for a bit, is that okay with you?"

Sitting up, Fumio remained where she was as she tried to relax after all of that. It was obvious that her current guest wasn't really in a state to go anywhere at the moment, so she shook her head. "It's fine. Take all the time you need." Hopefully she wouldn't regret an open invitation like that.

Akira flashed her a smile as she made herself comfortable on the sheets, radiating a happiness that was more subdued than the vibrant version she had held upon arriving. "I'm glad," she said in a manner that Fumio found hard to counter. Falling silent, the author let her mind drift to planning for her novel as she remained seated nearby while the clock ticked away. Today had definitely been an interesting day.


End file.
